Home: Part 2
by annagallis
Summary: I admit I'm spinning this one out: the full reconciliation between Percy and Marguerite. Baroness Orczy shows us almost nothing of it and yet it is such an essential part of their story. I'm spinning it out because I don't want to reach the end! And because I don't have any ideas for what might follow. So I'm only slowly working towards the inevitable conclusion...


_She finished eating and suddenly spoke: "Percy, where shall I sleep?"_

He was so taken aback that for a few moments he was entirely lost for words. She saw the surprise and, she thought, some alarm in his face and she said in a matter-of-fact tone,

"I have realised, Percy, that this cottage, is very small – you chose it to meet only your own needs of course and after all, I doubt you had expected ever to be entertaining company; in all likelihood, then, there is only one bedchamber. Which is yours."

She paused. No immediate reply being forthcoming, she pressed on:

"So I was wondering where you would wish me to sleep."

Another pause. Then he replied:

"You are right, of course, my dear; apart from Mrs Phillips's private quarters there is only one bedchamber here. I must confess that the question has been troubling me somewhat... although we might be more comfortable in the spaciousness of our apartments at the Manor, I am afraid my back is so painful that I cannot face travelling back to Richmond just yet. But of course" – he now spoke more uncertainly – "I might sleep in the chair, by the fire here.. if you think you would rest better..."

"Oh!, Percy, no!" she exclaimed, "I would not dream of it; your chivalry does you credit, as always, but I would not dream of it", she said firmly – and much to his relief – "at the best of times, and especially not now ―" here she paused, unsure of what she wanted to say, or how to say it; she did not mean that only his back was the reason, but also that if they were to start afresh, she believed they should begin straight away to live as man and wife.

He was, she could tell, waiting with bated breath for her to make her meaning clear; and after a moment more, she continued:

"I truly meant, Percy, where you would _wish_ me to sleep."

His relief was visible: he breathed a sigh and thought for a few moments before replying: he too wanted desperately to use the right words. Then, holding her gaze as steadily as he was able, he said quietly:

"I trust, dearest, that I have not misinterpreted your meaning, or misjudged the situation; but I hope you might be willing to share my bed."

She missed barely a heartbeat before responding:

"That is what I also hoped, Percy."

He could not tear his eyes away from her face. He breathed another sigh; and then, because further words now seemed unnecessary, he smiled at her.

She returned his smile, and said, "We shall spend a few days together here, Percy, as you said, to rest and heal. And perhaps we can use the time to reacquaint ourselves one with the other: there is so much we need to learn."

"Quite so, dear heart," he replied, "quite so."

The dilemma now being solved, and in quite the way he had hoped, he felt happier than he had for many a day. He wondered if she felt the same, but he did not know how to ask, without the question sounding out of keeping with the moment. So, until he could decently suggest they retire to rest, he decided on another tack of conversation – but before he could begin, Marguerite, apparently of the same mind, changed the subject and asked something on which her thoughts had dwelt from time to time since she had discovered his secret: how he could conceal, not only his own double identity, but the activities of the League, from so many prying eyes.

She said, "Percy, how do you explain – to curious enquirers – your journeys to and from France? Many people must know you make the crossing very often..."

"Oh! They think I'm engaged in smuggling!" he replied, "And, being the incorruptible nation that we are," he said with a chuckle, "they are only too glad to think of the Excise being defrauded of its dues! It is a fiction which for obvious reasons I am satisfied to allow to persist; and indeed I have found it quite useful on occasion not only to foster the misapprehension, but also to encourage it – the discreet gift of a bottle of good French brandy here or there seems to work wonders!"

"Ah," she replied thoughtfully, "yes, of course. But are you not afraid that someone might denounce you to the – what did you call it – the Excise?"

"No doubt someone will, at some point", he replied; "except that there is no price on my head ― this side of the Channel at least! ― and if the Excise were to begin nosing about in my affairs, they would find nothing of any interest to them. Briggs is absolutely trustworthy and has hand-picked an equally trustworthy crew and pays them well, so I need have no fear that they might be tempted to try to run any other kind of operation alongside the missions of the League."

He searched her face. "You need have no fear, either, dearest;" he said; "we plan our missions with the utmost care – we try to leave nothing to chance – but in the event of anything going amiss, there is always a little chink here or there which we can exploit. I do not wish to leave you here, every time I go to France, knowing that you will be anxious, Margot" – he deliberately used his most intimate name for her – "Promise me that you will try not to be afraid!"

"But Perr-si!" she cried, and continued in French, "we know Chauvelin will be even more determined, now, to watch for you; he knows, now, because of me, that the Scarlet Pimpernel ― whom he hates with a passion ― and Sir Percy Blakeney are one and the same! You cannot ask of me that I shall not fear for you!"

She was becoming distressed, he could see, but he did not know how he could subtly divert her attention; so he drew his chair close to hers, took both her hands in his, and spoke quietly and gently:

"It is true, dear heart, that we shall need to be particularly cautious from now on, and that we _shall_ do, I promise you; but we are honour bound, by the oath we all swore, to carry on!"

"I know that, Percy; I know that you will not break that vow. But it will be so difficult for me now, to bid you farewell each time, not knowing if I shall..." ― he could see her tears beginning to rise now – "not knowing if I shall ever see you again!" And her exhaustion, and the stress of the past few days, finally overcame her and she began to sob.

He could not bear this; he rose from his chair and knelt beside hers, putting his arms around her and drawing her to him. She yielded to his embrace, resting her head on his shoulder, putting her own arms around his neck; this brought her face close to his and he kissed the tears from her cheeks, gently and tenderly.

"I beg you, little woman, not to distress yourself like this", he murmured; "I know that Chauvelin and his men will be watching for me now; but there are twenty of us in the League, all of us bound to the same duty, and to face the same risks, which we share; and besides – although I have always been lucky, Margot – now that I shall, I believe, have your thoughts and prayers with me whilst I am away, I shall not relax my guard but shall be even more careful than before, I promise you."

"You shall have my love, Percy, too", she said gently, and she kissed him. She could taste the salt tang of her own tears on his lips and the thought struck her of all the tears she had shed in the past unhappy months since her marriage: now, perhaps, although there might be more tears, as yet unshed, she felt she could trust that they would not be tears of bitter disappointment and loneliness.

"Dear heart", he replied, "you cannot know the joy it gives me to hear you say so", and he kissed her again, more deeply now and more ardently as he felt her return his kiss. He began to feel that he must let events unfold as they would: that his previous doubts had been unworthy: that he must take at face value the words she spoke now: that she loved him and would give herself to him. And he knew that he would take the gift, heedless perhaps of his own fears, because he could not resist now...

She pushed at his coat but then she murmured something which he did not catch and pulled away from him a little; he realised he was trembling – and so was she; but he reminded himself that he would not, could not rush headlong, that he must curb his urgency.

He disengaged himself and sat back on his heels.

"I beg your pardon, my dear, but I did not hear what you said?"

"Your back, Percy: I wanted you to take off your coat but I was afraid it would hurt your back."

"I think it will hurt, dearest; but after all I cannot sleep in my coat! I must confess I am become warm, and if you have no objection I shall – " Here he stood, and began, gingerly at first, to remove his top coat; his back was painful, to be sure, and he wondered if not only his shirt, but his waistcoat too would be ruined; and he wanted a bath before they retired to bed.

"If you have no objection," he said again, "I shall ask Mrs Phillips if the copper is fired for the tub", and as he crossed the room he picked up a small handbell from the dresser and rang it outside the door. Coming back in, he sat again opposite Marguerite and poured more wine for them both.

A moment later Mrs Phillips entered and he addressed her: "Ah, Mrs Phillips. An excellent breakfast, as always. I would like a bath – is Robert here?"

"Yes, Sir Percy, and as soon as you arrived I told him to build up the fire, sir – I hope it won't be long now."

"You have anticipated me, Mrs Phillips, as you often do. Thank you. I think, Lady Blakeney" – turning to her – "that we are finished our breakfast?"

After Mrs Phillips had taken everything away and had left them alone again he explained to Marguerite how a bath was contrived, here at the cottage; and indeed she felt so travel-stained that she indicated she too would like a bath, although of course she had no fresh clothes in which to dress again afterwards; but he said he was sure they would be able to circumvent that problem somehow, if not immediately; she did not follow his meaning but was too weary to pursue the question, thinking only that she would dearly love some fresh linen.

He suddenly spoke again: "Are you warm enough, dearest? You must be so tired: you must not get cold. Let me see to the fire."

He crossed to the hearth and, in a gesture which reminded her of a scene only a few hours ago, he put the heel of his boot to one of the logs and pushed it nearer the flames. In a few moments the fire was burning brightly again and he returned to his chair.

"When you were at the _Chat gris_ ", she said, "with Chauvelin, did you know I was there too?"

"Ah, yes", he said, "the _Chat gris_. That worked well, eh, the pepperpot trick?!" and he laughed. "No, dearest, I did not know, not at the time: it was only afterwards, when by sheer good fortune I met Andrew on his way back to the inn, and he told me you had come with him – and were waiting, indeed, not more than a few feet from where I had sat!"

"So you did not know I was following the cart?"

"I thought you were going to be with Andrew! He and I made a plan – we had to, because you had taken me completely by surprise, following me across the Channel as you did, dear heart – but when I caught sight of a familiar little figure against the skyline – I was sure it was yours – I realised that the plan had gone awry: that you had given Andrew the slip, that you must have decided that the best way to find me was to stay as close to Chauvelin as you could" – here he saw her shudder involuntarily – "so I had to think again: until then I had had to be content to take Chauvelin along with me until some way became clear of reaching Armand and the others: but after I saw you there was no other course of action: I had to stay near you, and bring you safely home" he said simply. He looked at her and she smiled at him.

"I was sure that if Andrew had been with you I would not have seen you, so I surmised that you had followed the cart on your own – that I had underestimated your stout heart, little woman! And your poor feet have paid the price... May I see them, dearest? I must make sure we do not need a surgeon..."

She hesitated a moment, then replied: "They are sore, certainly, Percy; but I hope we shall not need a surgeon for them; for your back, however – "

"I doubt there's anything a surgeon could do for me", he said quickly; "it will take time, and rest, that's all. It will heal. Your feet, Margot?" he said firmly.

She realised he would brook no argument and she nodded. She dreaded removing her stockings again, for she knew they would be sticking to her wounds and would cause them to bleed afresh, but she had no choice. She hesitated a moment and then, as confidently as she could, she drew her skirts up to her knees and made to untie one garter. He slipped off his chair and knelt again at her feet, put his hands on hers and stopped her.

She looked questioningly at him. His face was serious, his eyes deep, dark blue. His hands were warm on hers and she could feel tension running like some current between him and her.

He spoke: "Will you permit me?"

 _..._

 _To be continued..._


End file.
